


Decisions

by mmmdraco



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friendship Problems, Gen, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 05:56:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12227106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: A sort of mish-mash fill-in-the-blank about how things came together for Scott and Stiles' friendship prior to the end scene of season 6A.





	Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> I actually started this fic back before season 6 aired, and then just came across it today and finished it up. I kind of needed this because I've been stuck in this writer's block rut thing because of health problems (I normally can find ways to work through it, but I just didn't have enough spoons because of everything else happening. Fortunately, I'm finally finding a few more spoons so let's hope this continues!) I DO have plans to finish off Real Lies even though it feels like it's been forever since then, just as a thing. Same with the 50k of Sterek porn. I even have some of that half written. So, without further ado, the fic.

With the Dread Doctors and the Wild Hunt finally gone, things went back to normal. Except, they went back to the normal where no one was really talking to each other. The pack had reunited to face the threat, but with the threat gone, the things that had gone wrong were too easy to remember.

So Scott started where he had before, cornering Stiles in the locker room after lacrosse practice and saying flat out, "We're still friends, right?"

Stiles shook his head with such little movement that Scott was certain he wouldn't have noticed it without the lycanthropy. "Scott, you've had a lot of times of not believing me before. And that was okay. Boy who cried wolf! Y'know, except that I was right about that. And Matt. And Ms. Blake. And, really, just about everything. But, this time? You didn't trust me. And that's a little different. I don't know if that's something I can actually forgive because, Scott, I can't quite bring myself to trust you anymore."

"Dude, it was no big-" Stiles slammed his fist against a locker door, shutting Scott up.

"If you try to say it was no big deal, I will shove your head into one of these lockers and repeatedly slam the door until the only words out of your mouth are begging for the mercy you didn't think I had a few months ago." Stiles' lip curled as he hiked his bag onto his shoulder. "You've made a lot of mistakes. And most of them weren't accidents. They were decisions. You decided to lie to me about bite marks on the legs of a dead body years ago in order to get me to allow you to go dig in Derek's yard. You decided to let your girlfriend be more important than anything else even when I was trying not to drown in a pool while holding up Derek. You decided to poison Gerard and engineer some scheme with your boss on the off chance that he'd try to get the bite and took away the bodily autonomy of, oh look, Derek. You constantly decide to work with the bad guys the second they threaten someone you love, even when there are people who could help you to make sure that doesn't happen. You trust the bad guys, but not the person who was supposed to be your best friend. And the number of times you've thrown Derek under the bus? That's well beyond dick move now. Is it any wonder he left town?"

Scott swallowed roughly and reached a hand forward, pulling it back when Stiles flinched. "This isn't about Derek. He shouldn't matter when it comes to us, Stiles."

"But he does." Stiles ran a hand through his hair. "You might try to be a good person, but you're not. Derek doesn't try to be a good person, but he is. It's no wonder the two of you never really got along." Stiles laughed. "And you're probably going to see me as choosing him over you now, but I don't want you to think of it like that. I'm choosing me over you for once. We're not really friends anymore, but if you legitimately need me? I'm still there for you because we do have so much history. But that's the decision that I am making."

Clenching his fists to try to control the urge to shift, Scott stared at Stiles. "We've been friends for like more than a decade. You're going to give that up because of Derek?"

"Seriously?" Stiles pressed his fingers to his eyes before letting his hands down to flail out. "I literally just said this is not about Derek! But you know how you judge someone by how they treat their waiter? That's part of what this is. And it's not just Derek. It's everyone else, too. Everyone who chose the bite? You treated them like scum as though you wouldn't have chosen this if you'd been given the choice yourself. But then you bite Liam, turning him, and call me over to be the one to try to explain things and blame me when that doesn't work. Everyone is your scapegoat! And I'm sick of it. Sick of trying to gain your approval just so you can actually remember I exist for a little while longer." Stiles paused, gnawing at his lower lip as he stared at Scott. "If you can think of a way to start over, I'm all ears, but fuck, Scott. It's like you go out of your way to figure out how all of your screw-ups can be blamed on someone else just because you had a little bit of bad shit happen. Well, guess what? Some of us have had a lot of bad shit happen because of what you've done."

Scott's face had gone through a series of complicated emotions before settling on an unfocused stony gaze he leveled near Stiles, but still didn't quite manage to make a connection. "At least I haven't killed anybody."

Stiles ran a hand through his hair and huffed out a breath, stepping back from Scott slightly. "You're right. No blood on your hands from a killing blow, right? But I gotta say that that's probably working against us, too. What if I was attacked by something and bleeding out and it hurt, fucking hurt, and I knew I was dying and asked you to finish me off so I could stop being in pain, what would you do, Scott? Because if you hold Derek's blue eyes against him when he did the same damn thing..."

"I just don't want to kill people! That doesn't mean we have to stop being friends. That's why I thought you'd actually killed the dude like Theo said." Scott had finally focused on Stiles again, but Stiles' verbal attack had riled him up.

Stiles slammed the side of his fist against the locker as hard as he could, wincing at the shock of pain that spread up his arm. "I don't want to kill people, Scott! But when they want to kill me and I didn't ask for it, then we've got a problem. When they try to kill my friends and what little family I have left, we've got a problem. You tried to tell me that I didn't kill Allison because that was the Nogitsune and it was possessing me. What you don't seem to get is that I was always capable of doing that and I chose not to just like you do. I may talk a big maiming and murdering game, but when do I ever go out of my way to actually start that? I thought, hey, we've got that in common so it's all good! But then Gerard and the pills. And you didn't _tell_ me! That's the worst part, Scott. No, y'know what, it's not. There are so many bad parts here that I just need to go away for a while. I mean, I was literally forgotten for months because of a creepy supernatural Old West theme park sheriff and deputies, and things were screwed up, but I honestly felt better at the end of it because, hey, things were better, right? But no. All of that joy of being remembered and it's like you only remembered the things you wanted to rub in my face. I need to be away from you for a while, Scott."

Scott pulled out his phone and started tapping at buttons for a moment. A second later, Stiles' phone buzzed with an incoming text. "It's my dad's number. He... He was asking about you last time I talked to him. Apparently you impressed him with your calm or something when the Deadpool happened. I didn't even know you could _be_ calm. Maybe... Maybe he can help you like he never helped me."

"He left, too. Didn't that help you?" Stiles leaned against the bank of lockers and rubbed at the side of his hand. "Maybe he can get me an in at the FBI. There's only room in this town for one sheriff and no way am I going to let my dad be the boss of me. Then suddenly I get shit assignments just because I made him eat a salad." 

"Maybe. But I think whatever you decide to do, you'll be great at. Really." Scott reached out and touched Stiles' hand, focusing and pulling out some of Stiles' pain with barely a wince of his own. "I'm sorry, dude. I didn't mean to be a jerk. But we've all kind of been under a lot of pressure and when I'm supposed to be the leader?"

Pulling his hand back, Stiles nodded. "I get it. It's always tough getting things done, especially when you're suddenly having to do a lot of things you've never done before. But, everything you've done until now, you've gotten through it even if you failed, right? So just keep on doing that. Keep on making it through. Even if you fail, failure's anothing thing you've survived."

Nodding in reply, Scott moved to grab his things, also grabbing Stiles' and handing them over. "Hard to believe high school's almost over."

Snorting, Stiles gestured around the locker room. "And yet you volunteered to help with the summer practices."

"I need to practice being a leader without you there, right?" Scott smirked and hiked his backpack higher on his shoulder.

Reaching out, Stiles ruffled Scott's hair with both of his hands. "You'll still have Liam. He'll irritate you plenty."

They left the locker room and parted for the day. It didn't take too long for everything to come together. College acceptances, FBI internships, and even an ill-advised milkshake drinking contest which proved that werewolves could still get brain freeze. Stiles handed off the keys to the Jeep, knowing he wouldn't need it but that it would need to be driven around some. And when Scott hopped in to use it the first time on his own, he found a note propped up by the radio. 

_Scott, this is your reminder to take care of my vehicle at least like it's me. Because if I'm not here and it is, then- Yeah. Use it to pick up girls and go places with your pack becausre your little dirtbike with one seat wasn't helping on that. This might.  
\- Stiles_

_P.S. You can still call me. I can at least help with research from the other side of the country._


End file.
